


love takes its toll on me

by dannydevito



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: (kinda), Anal Sex, Cock Warming, Crossdressing, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29764251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannydevito/pseuds/dannydevito
Summary: “Don’t worry,” Rook just chuckles darkly, voice thick with want and desire, green eyes practically glowing. Rook brings one of his hands up to his mouth, tugging a leather glove off with the edge of his teeth, tossing it carelessly behind them. “Trust me.”
Relationships: Rook Hunt/Vil Schoenheit
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	love takes its toll on me

**Author's Note:**

> i remember seeing a [tweet](https://twitter.com/lanzhanstan/status/1361413489760235523) describing this a week ago or smth and the idea wouldnt leave me alone orz
> 
> [title](https://youtu.be/37lXjnflt9M) taken from sanctify by years and years

Vil looked into the mirror, taking in his appearance, turning this way and that, appraising the way his new skirt looked on him. The skirt was a small, flimsy little thing, lilac in  colour and pleated. It was on the side of being just a little bit too short on Vil, most skirts were, his legs too long and waist too small to find something that fit the way he liked. Vil tugged at the thigh high black stocking he’d matched with the skirt, sighing at the satisfying way they smacked against his skin, bending over just so and frowning at the way he could see the lace edge of the panties he was wearing. 

The skirt had been ‘gifted’ to him through PR from a designer fashion label and he knew the unspoken expectation to post a picture of him in it to his  MagiCam account. The thing was Vil had worked with this particular designer in the past, knew that they had his measurements on file so either he’d been given the wrong size by accident or the skirt was meant to be this short. Vil pulled at the waist band of the skirt, wrapped snug around his trim waist, not too tight, not too loose, it fit just right. Maybe it was meant to be this short. 

Vil opened the door to his dressing room, making his way over to where Rook was waiting for him, sitting on the edge of their bed. He gave Rook a twirl, letting his hunter study the new skirt, before turning back to face him, with a perfect brow arched. 

“Well,” Vil asked, placing a hand on his hip, taking in the way Rook’s eyes were still trailing up and down his legs, his green eyes practically glowing with want. “What do you think?”

“Magnifique.” Rook whispered out his praise, reaching out to grasp at Vil’s hips, dragging the model in closer to get a better look, his other hand grabbing at Vil’s thigh, gloved fingers skimming along the small peak of exposed skin where Vil’s stockings ended and his skirt began. “100% beaut é .”

Vil coughed, clearing his throat, ignoring the flush lighting up his cheeks, hands absentmindedly coming up to rest against Rook’s broad shoulders, standing in between the small gap of his legs. “Really? You don’t think it’s too short?”

“Non,” Rook shakes his head to emphasize his point, hand squeezing down on Vil’s hip  _tight,_ tongue peeking out to wet his dry lips. “ C’est parfait.” 

Vil nods, choosing to believe Rook’s words even if he wasn’t too sure himself. He only had to wear the skirt for this one picture as well, it could lay forgotten at the back of his closet like the rest of the things he’d been given as PR in the past. “Help me take the picture, yes?”

Rook nodded in agreeance, leaning back to tap a finger against his chin thoughtfully, quiet for a moment while he tried to think of a good pose for Vil, well aware of what angles and poses worked better for Vil than the model did himself. Rook hummed after a few minutes of silence, eyeing Vil for a handful of seconds before tugging the model into his lap. Rook still oddly silent as he runs his fingers along Vil’s skirt, soothing any of the barely there wrinkles out, tilting his head to the side curiously, studying their reflection in the full-length mirror that stood beside their bed. Vil craned his neck back, taking in the sight of him sitting on Rook’s lap, both his legs wrapped loosely around Rook, bare thighs bracketing his hips, legs on display but the skirt now fully covering his ass. Vil frowned, this was hardly the best Rook could come up with.

“What about this?” Rook asks, breaking the small silence that had taken over them, one of his hands coming down to cup Vil’s ass, giving his butt a gentle squeeze while his other arm wormed  it’s way around Vil’s waist, pulling the model in close, so they were chest to chest. “It’s a great way to show off the skirt, no?”

Vil frowns at their reflection, squirming in Rook’s laps, his arms coming up to curl around his hunters' neck, making himself comfortable. Although it does make for a good picture but he doesn’t think this is what the brand wants, there’s something off about the pose that he can’t put his finger on. “I’m not sure about that.”

“Really?” Rook asks, sounding way too excited for taking a picture of Vil for his  MagiCam . Vil flicks his eyes up to Rook’s face, brow furrowing at the smug smile stretched across his boyfriend's face, clearly planning something. “Can I show you something?”

Vil finds himself nodding before his mind can even catch up with himself, his body instinctively trusting Rook. It’s not like he has a choice but to go along with the hunter anyway, knows him well enough that if Rook is in his one of his cryptic moods there’s little Vil can do but hear him out, go along with whatever he had planned out. Rook was stubborn at the best of times and if he wanted to do something there was little Vil could do to stop him. 

“Okay, fine.” Vil answers slowly, turning back so he’s facing Rook, blinking down at him. “Just don’t mess up the skirt.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Rook smiles up at him, too many teeth in his wide grin, his eyes already dark and cloudy with want. “Trust me.”

Rook squeezes down on Vil’s hip one more time and then he’s pulling him in close, pressing a soft, kiss to the corner of Vil’s mouth, trailing his lips across the smooth places of Vil’s face, peppering kisses anywhere he could reach, reveling in the way Vil shivers in his arms, body always so sensitive, so in tuned with Rook’s touch. Vil relaxes into Rook’s hold, tightening his arms around Rook’s shoulders, clinging onto him, letting his hunter become his anchor. 

Rook finally licks into Vil’s mouth, tongue all soft and gentle, Vil’s lips opening up like a flower under his touch, gasping into Rook’s mouth. Rook drags his tongue alongside Vil’s a satisfied sigh tumbling out of his of his mouth and into Vil’s, pressing in as far as he can, kissing Vil so deep, so sweet, just how Vil likes. 

Vil is so distracted by the kisses, so caught up in the way his lips tingles from just Rook’s touch, the way he feels like he can get drunk from just this, just from his mouth sliding against Rook’s that he doesn’t notice Rook’s hand that had been caressing the curve of his ass sliding his skirt up, rucking the material up around his hips, squeezing down on Vil’s ass again. 

Vil pulls back from the kiss with a shaky gasp, glancing down at Rook, eyes wary and questioning. “Hmm?,” Vil heaves out, mouth struggling to string his words together, lips sore and swollen from Rook’s insistent kisses. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry,” Rook just chuckles darkly, voice thick with want and desire, green eyes practically glowing. Rook brings one of his hands up to his mouth, tugging a leather glove off with the edge of his teeth, tossing it carelessly behind them. “Trust me.”

Vil wordlessly nods, burying his face into the crook of Rook’s neck, breathing in the salt of his skin, silently giving Rook permission to do whatever he wants with his body, willingly let Rook take full control of the situation. Rook reaches down for Vil’s ass again, with his bare hand this time, gloved hand tugging Vil’s panties aside, exposing the model’s pink rim to the cold air.

Vil whimpers when he can feel a wet finger swipe against the sensitive skin of his entrance, slicking up his sensitive rim before sinking a lubed-up finger inside Vil easily, still pliant and loose from earlier that day. It doesn’t take long before Rook is sliding another finger into Vil, the model sighing  weltly , shifting in Rook’s lap, lifting his hips up higher, seeking out Rook’s touch, urging him on, body begging for more. 

“I need more.” Vil groans, mouthing at the skin of Rook’s neck, biting and licking at the warm skin beneath his lips, marking the skin up red and raw. For once Rook seems to be on the same page as Vil adding in a third finger, opening Vil up quickly and efficiently and then he’s pulling his fingers out just as fast, pressing the hot, throbbing tip of his cock against Vil’s quivering hole. “Please.”

“Are you ready?” Rook whispers, warm breath ghosting the shell of Vil’s red ears, nipping at his ear lobe, giving it a teasing suck before he’s pulling back, pressing a soft kiss to the apple of Vil’s cheek to soothe the sting. All Vil can do is nod, embarrassed at how needy he already feels, doesn’t want to hear himself cry out and whine for Rook to touch, when it took so little to work him up like this.

Rook finally begins to press in, the thick head of his cock splitting Vil open, squeezing himself into Vil’s tight opening, groaning at the heat, praising Vil for how _good_ and _tight_ and _perfect_ he feels around Rook. Vil gasps, back arching, desperately trying to meet Rook’s touch, to make the slide in easier, breathing turned choked up and ragged, moaning at how good the stretch is, no matter how many times he takes Rook in he can’t get over how good he feels, how full he makes him. 

It feels like it takes _forever_ till Rook is fully in, hips flush with Vil’s behind, Vil crying out, misty eyed and shaking, slobbering against Rooks lips, dragging him for a desperate kiss that’s all messy, too much tongue and spit, gasping into Rook’s mouth, his hunter drinking up every hitched breath and uneven gasp he lets out. Rook stops moving, letting Vil get used to the stretch, gives him a chance to catch his breath. Rook’s hands feel like they’re everywhere, holding him close, steadying him, peppering his face with small little kisses, bringing the sleeve of his shirt up, wiping away all the tears and spit from Vil’s face, the model still in a daze from how good it feels to speared open on Rook’s cock lets him, lets him do as he pleases.

Vil would let Rook do just about anything he wanted to him in that moment. 

Rook reaches down to where the skirt had been rucked up around Vil’s hips, smoothing it down, letting it drape over where they were connected, covering them up. Cradling Vil’s face with his other hand, whispering out a quiet _tu es belle_ , voice soft, completely enamored with Vil before pulling in to steal another kiss, warm tongue sweeping into Vil’s mouth, tasting everything his sweet lips have to offer. 

All too soon Rook pulls back, chuckling at the way Vil chases him, looking for more kisses, pouting down at him when Rook just cranes his neck back further, denying him. Vil watches with growing confusion as Rook plucks his phone that had lay on the bed near them, completely forgotten, easily unlocking it up before he’s opening up the camera app. 

“Smile for the camera, mon bijou.”

“W-What?” Vil splutters out, mind still hazy, still stuck on the way he can feel Rook’s dick throbbing against him, scorching him from the inside out. “What are you doing?”

“Taking the photo for your brand deal?” Rook looks at him with a brow raised, chuckling, shaking his head as if Vil was being the weird one here, smiling all amusedly at the model. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

“No!” Vil hissed, shuffling around on Rook’s lap, voice catching on a moan at the way Rook shifted inside him, pulling at his rim. “Rook you’re _inside me._ ”

“And?” Rook asked so shamelessly, bouncing Vil in his lap, grinning all smug and satisfied at the weak whimper he wrings out of Vil, clenching down around Rook, arms clinging on desperately to Rook’s shoulder, the hunter curling an arm around Vil’s waist, holding him still. “It’s not like anyone can see.” 

_It’s_ _wrong,_ is what Vil wants to argue, but all he can manage to slur out is a moan, whining out Rook’s name, his tongue feels too thick in his mouth, mind too focused on Rook’s cock inside him to think clearly, legs quivering around Rook’s hips, body cradling the hunter in as close as possible.

Rook brings the phone up again when Vil doesn’t argue anymore, waiting for Vil to smile, all strained and desperate, Vil feels like he’s on the brink of falling in Rook’s arms, before he starts to take the photo. He takes a few, the click of the shutter sounds the only noise in the room alongside Vil’s heavy breaths. There’s no sound from the phone for a few moments, Vil assumes Rook is going through the  photos , making sure there’s at least one usable photo before he finally speaks up again. 

“Oh no,” Rook smiles innocently, sounding way too smug, way too satisfied, for whatever he’s about to say to be an accident, his voice instantly has Vil on edge. “I think I went live.”

“What?” Vil hisses, turning around to look down at his phone in Rook’s, trembling in Rook’s arms, biting back a muffled moan, biting down on his lip as frantic eyes searched his phone screen, realizing Rook wasn’t just teasing him, watching the comments flood in, the viewer count going up by a couple  thousand every second.

Vil gaps at the screen, frozen to his spot, ass clenching down on Rook, his own dick pulsing, leaking against his own stomach, throbbing at the thought, the slow realization that all these people are watching him, _actually watching_ _him,_ looking at him, not realizing he’s spread open on Rook’s cock, panties a sticky mess of cum, sweat and lube. All it would take is for Rook to move, to shift his leg, to move his hand and pick up Vil’s skirt for the whole world to realize, to see him as nothing but this desperate little thing, always desperate, always aching for Rook.

The thought turns him on more than it should. 

“Bonsoir, mon amis!” Rook sings out, smiling at their reflection in the mirror, giving a little wave with his free hand before resting it back on Vil’s lower back. Vil doesn’t know how he does it, how he can act so brazenly, smile so innocently at the camera while Vil can feel every little twitch Rook’s hard cock inside him, drooling precum against his walls, lube oozing out of Vil’s hole with every pulse of his dickl, making everything a wet mess.

Vil forces himself to nod robotically, shooting a well-practiced smile at the camera, spouting out his own greeting, his words forgotten the moment they leave his mouth, mind still focused on the way his rim quivered around Rook, body trying to milk his hunters' cock all on  it’s own, patience run thin, desperate to be fucked. 

He doesn’t know how long Rook drags this on for, the concept of time lost on him in that moment, watching dazedly as Rook talks to the camera, about what Vil couldn’t tell you. Vil rests his head against Rook’s shoulder, body slumping against Rook’s solid body, all the tension he’d been holding in slowly fading out of him. His body doesn’t feel like his own, neither does his mind to be honest, he feels distant, like he’s far away, head stuffed full of cotton, the calming lilt of Rook’s voice the only thing grounding him to the moment.

Vil doesn’t even realizes Rook’s finished the livestream and then he’s suddenly pushing the model down into their bed, legs automatically spreading around him, always making space for Rook to be close. Rook presses eager, open mouth kisses across Vil’s face, catching the models mouth into the sloppy kiss, licking and sucking on Vil’s tongue, hips thrusting hard and sharp against him, fucking any remaining thoughts out of Vil’s mind. 

Vil clings onto Rook, nails scrabbling along the expanse of Rook’s back, catching on the material of his shirt, entire body being jostled with the force of each and every single one of Rook’s strong thrusts. It doesn’t take much longer, Rook is relentless in the way he fucks into Vil, hips hammering into Vil, not giving him a chance to even _breathe_ watching the way Vil’s face screw up in  ecstasy , tears dripping from his eyes, mouth hanging open around desperate, breathless moans, toes curling in pleasure. 

Vil’s eyes roll back as his orgasm rushes through him, body spasming around Rook’s cock, dick spurting strips of cum on the inside of the skirt, completely untouched, ruining the skirt completely, whimpering weakly, eyes hazy, watching distantly as Rook fucks into his limp body, using him, chasing his own orgasm only seconds after Vil’s, spilling his own cum deep inside the model. 

Rook pulls out with a groan, flipping the skirt up, taking in the sticky mess he made of Vil, letting out a low whistle before flopping down on the bed next to Vil, pulling him in close. Rook brushes his fingers through his Vil’s hair, combing any loose strands from his face before pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead, his nose, both his cheeks before finishing on his little journey on Vil’s mouth. Rook pulls back, ready to press another kiss to Vil’s tender mouth before he’s held back, pushed back with one of Vil’s shaky arms. 

“Try anything like that again and you’re dead.” Vil threatens, voice hoarse, completely wrecked from Rook, cracking on the few words he managed to get out, lacking any of his usual bravado. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” Rook grins with a soft chuckle, before he’s pressing another kiss to Vil’s mouth, settling down next to him, curling his arms  protectively around Vil. 

**Author's Note:**

> if theres a better tag then public sex cos its kinda hmm :? then tell me and ill change it
> 
> my [twit](https://twitter.com/giornah)
> 
> my [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/giornah).


End file.
